Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Last night we held commencement for the St. John's Episcopal School Class of 2015. I gave the following remarks as my charge to them:

When I had the good fortune to work with you a bit in class
last year, I asked you to write moonshot essays. I hope you recall the notion
of a moonshot vision—something really significant which others might deem
impossible, but you believe it’s how you can change the world for the better.
You had some amazing ideas, and I know you will have plenty more. In fact, we’re
kind of counting on you to do so. I want to share with you three key things
that can help you achieve a moonshot, whatever it might be. A simple chore.
Cookies. Gratitude.

#1. Every morning, first thing, make your bed. No, your
parents did not ask me to include this. You may be thinking what I thought at
your age: Why do that when I’m just going to use it tonight? Here’s the reason, the only one that ever has made sense to me.
Do that one easy thing, and you start the day with a victory. You’re 1-0, and
you can build momentum. It’s also about responsibility and discipline. And how the
little things can add up to big things.

#2. A few years ago, college researchers conducted an experiment
replicated many times over. They broke students into three-person groups. One
person was randomly appointed leader. Each group was put in a room and asked how
to solve some difficult ethical problem, such as how to eliminate cheating or
to broker world peace. Meanwhile, researchers observed them through a one-way
window.

After thirty minutes, someone brought the group four
freshly-baked cookies. Yes, four cookies for three people. Obviously each person got one cookie. But
that left one cookie just sitting there temptingly, its delectable aroma
wafting through the room. Awkward, right? Each person craving the cookie, yet pretending
he or she was happy for others to have it. But it wasn’t awkward or hard to
resolve at all. Because in almost every case, the leader grabbed the fourth
cookie and ate it. More like devoured it with lip-smacking, drool-dripping,
crumb-flying fervor. You know: in a way to emphasize who the leader was.

Now remember, this leader had been appointed randomly just 30
minutes earlier. His or her status was due entirely to luck. But evidently that
was enough to make all of them assume they deserved the cookie rather
automatically.

This ties to #3: Gratitude. I know you’re grateful to be
sitting here as new graduates of St. John’s. I want to put that in some larger
context for you—the context of luck. Without even being aware, you were
appointed leaders of the group, and it happened before you were born. Without even buying a ticket, you won the genetic lottery. Here’s how. Current world population is
just over 7.2 billion people. Just by the circumstances of birth, perhaps a
couple other twists, each of you is in the top 5% of humankind in terms of
wealth, health, security, and potential. That means out of a random group of
100 people your age, you got a big head start over 95 of them. Or, in total,
over 6.85 billion of them. Quite good odds for success. Adding to this immediate
advantage, you’ve had myriad opportunities—lessons, clubs, travel, whatever.
Foremost among them: St. John’s. And if you think about it, that St. John’s
even exists, let alone your getting to go to school here, has some luck
involved. So practice gratitude and be sure to count your lucky stars.

Of course, luck doesn’t really matter if you don’t take jump at
the opportunities it provides. You have thus far, and now you sit here, poised
for the next phase of your lives. The big question: what is that going to be? I
don’t mean summer plans or even high school. I hope St. John’s has challenged
you to think about how you’re going to take all you’ve been blessed with and go
out and make a positive impact. A successful moonshot. How you will do that is vitally
important to ponder. You will continue to be faced with the extra cookie,
probably dozens of them. At times you will earnestly believe you deserve it. Sometimes
you just may truly have earned it. But
you and the world will be better off if you make your bed, express gratitude,
and always share the cookies.

Congratulations, Class of 2015. We will miss you, and I wish the
best of luck on all your moonshots.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

My daughter, Kate, recently decided that she will matriculate at Bryn Mawr College this fall. She is absolutely thrilled, and everyone in the family has their Bryn Mawr t-shirts. Even a few months ago, let along a year ago, I would not have predicted this outcome.* I'm bringing this up because our experience hold some illustrative lessons not just for finding a college (or high school), but also for the educational process in general.
During the spring break of her junior year, Kate and I took a college trip while my wife and son did their own thing. Our trip was based on her belief that she wanted to attend a large urban university in the northeastern United States, preferably Boston or New York. Her college counselor also suggested some other places for perspective and exposure. She gladly agreed, but remained adamant about one thing: she did not want an all-women's college.
After the trip and some reflection, we reassessed and spelled out the new criteria. Small liberal arts college. Liberal political atmosphere with commitment to social justice. Vibrant music and theater program for her to participate in, although not major in. Preferably in the northeast, but not necessarily. Did have to be near a big, lively city...but not right in the city. Near a train station so she easily could get into the city, and the train also should take her in the other direction to beautiful natural areas for long bike rides. Co-ed. I remember thinking, this makes it easy since probably around a dozen colleges fit all these criteria exactly!
One school kept rising to the top in her mind, and I believe she wanted to apply early decision. We nixed that idea for assorted reasons. The most compelling one came from her college counselor (new since the other had moved to a different school): Kate will be a different person in the spring than she is right now. We identified the list for Kate to consider now, and he convinced her to keep an open mind about Bryn Mawr. So, with that in mind, we planned another trip for the fall. We kept Bryn Mawr on there since we would be near it visiting another school. We had a very nice time there--as we did everywhere--but nothing that made me think, "This is the place!" Kate seemed to feel the same way.
Then came the applications, more interviews, waiting, happiness, disappointment, more trips, reflection. Most of the news was very good and quite affirming, but we tried not to get too high or low with any of it. She was going to have strong options, and she said several times she could be happy at any of her choices. One moment, though, stands out in hindsight. She texted her mom and me, "I got into Bryn Mawr!!!!!" Note the multiple exclamation points. We hadn't seen quite such a reaction to any other place. Soon she reduced the choice to two colleges: another and Bryn Mawr. A trip up with my wife, and they were hooked. The more I've learned, the more I'm sold. Meanwhile, I've done loads of wondering about how we ended up with this choice.
I think the answer is simple: we trusted in the process. And while that process felt interminable at times, that turns out to have been a good thing. As that counselor predicated, she was a much more mature young woman in the spring, able to make a more informed, self-aware decision. The entire time she had been doing her research (more than we realized), doing some healthy self-reflection, and thoughtfully weighing pros and cons while remaining open to anything. Speaking of those counselors, I'm so grateful to them. By them I mean her first counselor and then his replacement; and I mean the admission counselors at the colleges who, despite the pressure for high numbers and yield, always made us feel they had Kate's best interest in mind. I know many other people--adults, friends--helped in different ways. We listened to people who had different perspectives on Kate. It was a multi-faceted partnership. And none of us began with definite outcomes in mind other than a sense of pride and fulfillment. Although I did sometimes have to remind myself it was where she felt best about, not where I would want to go. Similarly, as one college counselor reminded me, "See this through her lens. You naturally love ____ because you see what's happening there through an educational leadership lens."
I also think this experience, while condensed, captures how education in general should work. It is a long-term process, one that is anything but linear. It's full of frustrations and excitements and quandaries and realizations, often coming in ways we simply don't expect. And if we can just have faith and trust, it's a really beautiful thing.

*I am choosing not to mention the other schools to which she applied. They all are great places, and I don't want anything I write to suggest otherwise. Plus I believe very strongly in the philosophy expressed in Frank Bruni's Where You Go Is Not Who'll You: An Antidote to the College Admissions Mania.

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St. John's Episcopal School

St. John's is a pre-k through eighth grade co-educational school dedicated to a program of academic excellence designed to train the mind, strengthen the character and enrich the spirit of each student in a Christian environment.